A/N: Sorry for the wait, all. After the season finale I got all caught up in what really happened and lost my ability to be creative. Haha! I hope this chapter is at least worth the wait. I should warn you though that there is extensive fluff ahead. Slightly new territory for me, so I'd especially love to hear what you think. Thanks for reading.


Chapter 3

White and squeaky clean was the only way Jane could think of to describe the ceiling of his airstream. He lay on the couch, wishing that there was something there: tiles, stains, holes, anything just so that he would have something other than an expanse of nothingness to look at. It reminded him too much of what his life would be from here on out. Sure, he had seen it as a clean slate after he'd come back from South America, but even then, even unwittingly, Lisbon was the one who was going to help him fill in the blanks and give the world color again.

It'd been two days since they'd been locked in the closet together. Two days since he'd last seen her face. Two days since they'd spoken. He supposed that was his answer. She'd clearly chosen Pike. The squeaky clean, no skeletons in the closet, straightforward, bastard. And today she was leaving. He swallowed the bile rising up his throat and rolled to his side. He didn't want to look at the blank ceiling anymore. It was too painful.

He found it somewhat ironic that it was still raining outside. That it had been since the day in the closet. Not as hard, but a pretty consistent sprinkle mixed in with heavy downpours were the constant. Although the weather channel had said that there would be sunny skies tomorrow, he had no reason to believe that. How could the sky ever be sunny again when he'd lost his second chance at life and out of pure cowardice nonetheless? All because he hadn't manned up in time to stop Lisbon from falling for Pike.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Today he would hold out for a miracle. Tomorrow he would come to grips with the fact that he'd lost the best thing that had ever happened to him, and the day after that he'd swallow the hurt, push it down until it was simply a numb spot in his heart and then he would go on.

Even if Lisbon didn't choose him, she had been an integral part in helping him find a new life. She'd given him a job when he'd been at his most sad and pathetic, had taken a chance on him when no one else would, and had believed in him almost immediately. Then of course she had spent years after that helping him, following him, showing unwavering loyalty and love and he would not repay her efforts by digressing. She wouldn't want that. She'd never let him give up before and wouldn't be happy if he did now.

His eyes flew open at the thought and he sat up with a jerk, nearly falling off his couch in the process.

"I'm an idiot," he spluttered. Wasn't he doing, at this very moment, what he'd just sworn in the exact same moment he wouldn't do? Giving up? Yes. Idiot wasn't even the right word. Moron? Imbecile? Out of my ever lovin' mind? That had to be it. He must be suffering from temporary insanity.

He stood up and made his way to the driver's seat of his airstream. He was well on his way within five minutes and fifteen minutes after that he'd arrived at her house. There were no lights on inside and he felt an immediate churning in his stomach. He took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. He knew that it would be completely insane of him to drive all the way to D.C., but he'd already decided he was crazy, so if she wasn't there he'd just have to put his airstream to the first real good use it'd had.

He jumped out of the cab and made his way to her door, grateful for the lull in the rain, hesitating briefly before knocking. The fact that he'd been holding his breath didn't register until he heard an undignified squeal from inside followed by some very unsavory cuss words. He smiled despite the anger he heard in her voice. He could deal with her anger a lot easier than he could deal with her being in D.C.

He looked through her shades and a moment later he saw a petite silhouette, he assumed was Lisbon, heading for the door. His stomach flip-flopped and he swallowed thickly right before she threw the door open.

"What!" she snapped, then seeing it was Jane immediately sobered. "Jane, what…"

Jane's mouth fell open. "What happened to you?"

Her shocked expression dropped the moment he took her in and she glared at him. She was in jeans and a t-shirt, and was dripping wet. She had a little mascara running down her cheek under one eye, and now, after his remark, she looked seriously perturbed.

"I was putting my shower curtain back up and was startled by your knock," she explained.

"And you fell into the faucet and turned the shower on," he finished for her smirking at how hilarious and cute that was.

She narrowed her eyes. "What Jane? What do you want?"

He opened his mouth to tease her some more when he realized what it was she'd said. "You were putting your shower curtain back up?"

She crossed her arms. "Well yeah, they do tend to come in handy when you shower."

Jane could feel disbelief course through his body at her words and before either of them knew what he was doing he'd pushed his way past her and into her house. He looked around noticing that there were in fact several boxes that could be in the process of being packed or unpacked, as he made his way to her bathroom.

"Jane!" he heard Lisbon following behind him. "Why do you think you're doing?"

He skidded to a stop in her bathroom door, and she slammed into the back of him. He looked at the shower curtain that was now hanging half on and half off the rod. He moved into the bathroom and stepped into the tub. He looked down and saw the water that was in the drain, corroborating Lisbon's story, and shower curtain rings sitting on the edge of the tub.

"Jane, what on earth…" Lisbon said half irritated half amused that he was standing in her shower.

He looked up at her and relief washed through his body. "You're staying?"

She swallowed and walked over to him. "I was going to tell you yesterday, but I've felt a little overwhelmed and embarrassed. I mean," she spoke quickly, "I just accepted a new job in D.C. that I had to quit, I had to talk to Abbott about my job here, had to recall all my things that were on route to D.C. and," she looked down, her cheeks reddening, "I had to break up with Marcus. It's been a hectic…"

Jane wasn't completely sure how it happened, but he suddenly found himself reaching for her and pulling her into the shower with him and her sopping wet body into his firm embrace. He could feel water seeping through his button down and a strand of her wet hair stuck to his cheek. He revealed in it. It was a moment before her hands came slowly up and around his back.

"Jane, I'm soaked," she whispered.

"I don't care," he said grasping her tighter.

She chuckled lightly and he felt his body heat up. "Well," she said, "you will care when you let me go and your shirt is clinging to you."

He released her with one hand and reached over to the handle of the faucet turning it on full blast before putting his arm around her again.

"Jane!" she squealed as the lukewarm water soaked both of them through, her arms lifted away from him. "Are you crazy?"

He tightened his hold on her, buried his face in her hair and kissed the first piece of skin his lips found exposed on her neck. She went stiff. He pulled back enough to look her in the eye, water was splashing down the side of her face and he suddenly thought she'd never been so beautiful.

"Tell me why you stayed?" he whispered.

"You know why I stayed."

"I want to hear it."

She blushed. "Did you mean what you said? About all of it?"

He was at no loss as to what she meant. Did he really love her? Did he really want to have a home and family with her, a future? He could feel the muscles in her stomach tighten, in anticipation of his response, against his body and had to control the urge he had to simply push her against the wall and have his wicked way with her.

He had turned the water on to show her that he truly didn't care what their circumstances were as long as they were together, but now that they were both soaked through, water still running down their bodies, as she was pressed against him, he was thinking that this might not have been the best idea. He took a deep breath to calm himself.

"I meant every word," he told her and watched in total fascination as a smile crept over her face. He then added, "As a matter of fact I'd be happy to get a start on one of those things right now…"

She shoved his shoulder and tried to step out of the shower, but he pulled her back to him and wrapped his arm around her so that the full length of her was pressed against him.

"Uh uh," he chided. "I think you have something to say to me."

She tried to hold her scowl as her hands found her hips while he held her close. "I don't think this is the time or place."

He leaned forward, and pecked the corner of her lips. "Tell me."

She swallowed thickly, but shook her head.

He kissed the other corner. "Tell me."

"Jane…" she whined, her hands left her hips and landed on his shoulders. "The showers on."

He smirked and pulled her out of the spray, never taking his eyes off her. He leaned forward stopping a mere inch from her mouth. She drew in a deep breath as her eyes drooped and she leaned forward. He pulled back so that she couldn't kiss him. "Uh uh. Tell me."

She leaned forward again. "I love you," she said against his lips."

He felt a full on smile break out across his face and kissed her for all he was worth. He could feel them listing toward the wall and when his back hit it, they were once again under the full spray of the shower. He couldn't care less, and was pleased that she didn't seem to mind either. He felt her hand slide down his arm and stop on his bicep and smiled as she tightened her grip on it, then yelped when she pinched him. He pulled away and looked at his arm then back at the wicked grin on her face.

"What was that for?"

"I wanted to make sure you knew this wasn't a dream," she told him.

It took him a minute to remember and he was surprised that he felt a little embarrassed as the memory of the night he'd kissed her at the bar, drunk as a skunk, came back to mind. He had told her that he known he wasn't dreaming because if he had been, they'd be making out.

She chuckled at him as he thought about it, and it brought him out of the memory. He made eye contact and shrugged. "I know this isn't a dream," he said.

"Oh yeah," she asked, pushing a strand of dripping hair out of her face. "How?"

"My dreams were never this good."

She blushed anew and he had a feeling that it would never get old. "Now, tell me," he said against her lips. "Is kissing me when I'm sober as good as you thought it'd be?"

He braced himself for a smack, but was pleasantly surprised when she simply kissed him and said, "Better, much better."


Three Months Later

Tea was all he wanted, but was there any to be found? No. It just didn't seem fair. Jane opened every cupboard in the bullpen's kitchen and found nothing. He and the team had just spent a long week closing a gruesome murder case that involved a serial killer on a spree over several states and he was more than ready to be finished with it.

Sure he'd dealt with serial killers before, but he hadn't expected this one to hit so close to home. All the girls had been cut up in a fashion very similar to Red John's, and they discovered that there had been two killers working jointly and that had caused the team to split up. Lisbon had gone with Fischer and Wylie to New York while and he had gone with Cho and Abbott to Florida.

The stress of what he'd seen, mixed with the fact that the killers started escalating the closer the team got to catching them had Jane on edge. He felt he'd spent more time on the phone with Lisbon over the week, albeit in short intervals, than he'd ever spent on the phone in his entire life. He'd needed the reassurance that she was safe, and frankly not having her near had seriously hurt his a-game.

It wasn't until she and Fischer had had a close call, landing Fischer in the hospital with twelve stitches, that he'd forced himself to pull it together and get the case solved. And it was a good thing too, he thought as he slammed another cupboard, because the mere thought of spending another night without Lisbon was making him cranky.

She was flying back in around midnight tonight and he couldn't wait. It was seven, and everyone had already left for the night. He wasn't ready to leave though. The idea of going home to an empty house held about as much appeal as spending another night without Lisbon. He'd flown back in this morning and had gone straight to this quaint little jewelry shop he and Lisbon had found a month before while out on a date. The man who owned it cut all his own stones and made all the jewelry by hand.

At the time he'd been highly amused that Lisbon had barely given it a second glance. It really hadn't even occurred to her that maybe one day he'd want to buy her a ring, regardless of the fact that they talked daily about getting married. It wasn't because she couldn't see herself wearing a ring either, she'd just truly never considered that anyone would ever buy her one.

He'd been the one to insist they go in, despite her protestations that they'd be late to their movie. They had been, but it'd been worth it when he'd seen her eyes light up at the sight of one ring in the entire store. She'd hidden her reaction well, but he was a Mentalist after all. Good thing for her, really, otherwise she probably would've ended up with something she would've hated.

He tapped his pocket, reassuring himself that the ring box was still there, then left the kitchen and headed for the closet. There had to be tea in there. If not then he'd have to leave and go find some somewhere in the world. His nerves were seriously frazzled from his long week and from what he was planning on doing when Lisbon got home tonight. He had no reason to think she'd say "no," but he was still a little afraid.

He hadn't felt that way when he'd asked Angela, he'd been downright cocky then, even though he hadn't been sure of her answer. Over the last few months of being in a real relationship for the first time since Angela, he realized how much he'd changed over the years, how different a man he really was now. And the man he was now was humble enough to realize that he didn't just want Lisbon in his life, he needed her.

This week had thrown that into sharp relief for him. Especially now after not only working with her everyday, but spending the bulk of every afternoon, evening, nights and even early mornings with her. He was addicted now and had gone through some serious withdrawals this week that had caused the typically even tempered Cho to yell at him to knock it off and pull himself together.

He opened the door to the closet, turned the small hanging light on and grabbed the pencil he kept on the shelf to prop the door open with, then moved to the corner with his teas. He stopped abruptly when he saw three opened boxes, the three that had been in the cupboard in the kitchen when he'd last been here a week ago. He smiled.

The sound of a door clicking shut startled him. They were not getting trapped in this damned closet tonight. He whipped around and came face to face with a smirking Lisbon. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was holding up a small pencil for him to see.

"Oops," she said.

He reined in the smile he got upon seeing her and rolled back on his heels. "You think that's funny? You won't like it very much if we have to spend the night in here."

She took a step forward. "I like it in here."

"You like sleeping on linoleum as opposed to a soft bed?"

She took the last step separating them and slid her arms into his suit coat on either side, wrapping her arms around his waist. "As long as I get to use you as a pillow I don't care where I am." She went up on her toes and kissed him lightly.

"Well," he said feigning grumpiness, "I'm old and creaky and was really looking forward to a bed that wasn't in a hotel—now what do I get? Hard plaster."

She laughed. "This coming from a man who spent the better part of decade on hotel beds and on a slab of wood in the CBI attic."

"It's your fault for spoiling me," he said and wrapped his arms tightly around her.

"I'll happily take that blame. I think you deserve a little spoiling now and again," she said. She looked up at him, studying his face. "How are you?"

"Great, now that you're here," he told her. "How long did you wait for me to come back here?"

"Not long. Fifteen minutes maybe. Didn't see me sneak into the kitchen, did you?" she bit her lip and he felt a small pang of jealousy that he wasn't biting her lip.

"Not that I'm complaining," he said, "but why are you here? I thought you were flying in at midnight."

"I took an earlier flight," she pressed a kiss to his lips, "I missed you." She kissed him again. He tightened his grip on her as she pulled back. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Just making sure." He nuzzled her neck and she moaned, sending a chill straight through him. "That's it, I've just decided, next time the team gets split up, you're coming with me."

She chuckled and turned her head, searching for his mouth. He kissed her happily, slowly backing her to the door and pressing her against it. It'd only been a week, but he felt starved for her. The feel of her kisses and her soft skin. The way she would so easily meld to him whenever they hugged or kissed.

"Why couldn't this have happened the first time we were locked in here?" he asked through languid kisses.

She leaned back and looked at him with a startled expression. "What? You thought this was going to happen the first time we were in here?"

"More like hoped."

She raised a brow at him.

"And that someone would find us making out in here," he told her unapologetically.

"So it would get back to Marcus."

He shrugged.

She smacked him.

"Not just so it would get back to Marcus," he said. "I also wanted to taste you, feel your lithe body against mine." He pulled her roughly to him, pleased at her small gasp. "I was getting pretty desperate at that point." He leaned into kiss her, but she pulled away and looked down at his jacket.

"Jane, what's in your pocket?" she asked. He realized, belatedly, that the ring box had somehow pressed between their two abdomens as she reached into said pocket and pulled it out. Her face fell. "What's this?"

He let his head drop to her shoulder and took a deep breath. Oops.

"Nothing," he said reaching for it. "Just something for my other girlfriend."

She hit him in the arm. Hard.

"Ouch!"

She dropped her hands to her hips.

"Such hostility."

She glared.

He looked down at her angry face and fell in love with her all over again. This was the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with, and he couldn't wait. "Marry me."

Her face dropped, then she abruptly chuckled, then bit her lip again, her expression turning pensive. He remained solemn, loving the way her emotions were playing across her face, going from disbelief, to confusion to excitement and back to disbelief. He wanted to kiss her, but refrained because he wanted her answer more. He appeased himself by pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Are…are you serious?" she stuttered.

He lifted the ring box and flipped it open with his thumb for her to see. Her eyes sparkled and her hands came up to her face, covering it, then buried her head in his chest.

"Yes." He kissed the top of her head. "Not a mind-reader, though, dear. In case you've forgotten…"

She chuckled and looked up at him again, smile on her face, tears running down her cheeks. He wiped a tear away with his free hand. She took the box from him and smiled at the princess cut diamond with two side stones in a sterling silver band. "How did you know?"

"Not a mind-reader—still a Mentalist." He took the box out of her hand, closed it and shoved it back in his pocket.

"Hey," she protested.

He shook his head. "Why do these life changing moments always have to be so difficult? I'll give you the ring back when you give me your answer."

She smirked. "So, I'd still get it back if I said 'no'?"

He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Oh, all right," she held back a laugh and rolled her eyes. "I'll marry you."

His heart jumped in his chest and he thought he could never be happier. "Was that so hard?" he asked, then promptly pinned her to the door and claimed her mouth for his own.


A/N: I hope you liked this little fic. If you're interested I have another story going called Rear Window that is loosely based on the 1958 movie of the same name.